


Been All Around This Great Big World(s)

by angelsaves



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Blow Jobs, Facials, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-01
Updated: 2012-08-01
Packaged: 2017-11-11 05:48:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/475188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelsaves/pseuds/angelsaves
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Getzy gets drunk at Worlds -- drunk and lonely. Fortunately, he knows where Bobby's room is, and Bobby's going to let him in, of course. And maybe he'll let him do some other things.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Been All Around This Great Big World(s)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Katarin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katarin/gifts).



> this is for [katarin](http://just-katarin.livejournal.com), for putting up with me and my brother kind of almost setting the kitchen on fire /o\
> 
> the title comes from "california girls" by the beach boys, because i can't resist a terrible pun.

There's a knock at Bobby's hotel room door. "Go _away_ , Petry!" Bobby yells, not even bothering to open his eyes. "Sleep on Eberle's floor if you can't find your key!"

"Bobby, it's me! Let me in, Bobby!"

"...Getzy?" Bobby shoves the blankets aside and climbs out of bed. He'll open the door for Getzy, he guesses.

"I'm your captain! I could --" He stops yelling abruptly when Bobby opens the door. "Hi!"

"You're done partying already?" Bobby asks. He doesn't _look_ done partying.

"These fine Finnish establishments," Getzy says carefully, shutting the door behind himself, "no longer appreciate my... my... patronage."

Bobby snorts. "You got kicked out, huh?"

"I got kicked out," Getzy agrees. "Can I stay with you, Bobby?"

"What's wrong with your room?" he asks over his shoulder, climbing back into his bed. He's tired, okay? Losing takes a lot out of him, and they lost pretty badly.

"My room is _terrible_ ," Getzy says definitely.

"Okay, buddy," Bobby says, burrowing under the covers. "You can stay." He can hear Getzy undressing. He expects him to take Petry's empty bed, because that would make sense. 

So, of course, the next thing he knows, there's a rush of cold air on his back, and then Getzy's crawling into _his_ bed. "Hey! What are you doing?"

"It's so cold, Bobby," Getzy says, almost a whine, into his ear. "Let me stay here. You're warm."

"And you're _weird_ , bud." Getzy's got one arm flung over him, and he's really close, like, pressed up against Bobby's back. Bobby tries really hard not to have... thoughts about that. Getzy's his captain, he can't have those thoughts about him.

"Not weird. Don't make it weird." Getzy yawns, beery breath against the back of Bobby's neck. He'd complain, but... he kind of likes it. It _is_ a lot warmer with two, and Getzy's arm around him feels... nice. Safe.

"Whatever you say, Getzy." Bobby yawns too.

"Tha's what I like t'hear," Getzy slurs, patting Bobby's chest clumsily. And even though it's still weird, Bobby finds himself drifting off to sleep.

***

He wakes up when it's still dark. At first, Bobby isn't sure why he's awake, but then he feels Getzy's mouth on his neck and Getzy's boner against his ass. Oh. That'd explain it.

Getzy makes a moaning sound, and Bobby is suddenly, shamefully, turned on. He's probably not thinking of me at all, Bobby tells himself. He's probably dreaming about snuggling a... a supermodel, and he'd be weirded out if he found out it was --

"Bobby," Getzy sighs, and Bobby freezes.

"Getzy?" he whispers into the dark. But there's no answer. Getzy just keeps rubbing his hard-on against Bobby's ass. In his sleep. Oh, God, Bobby is probably going to hell for this, but his hand slips down into his shorts anyway. 

He jerks himself off with the smallest strokes he can so he won't wake Getzy up, letting the movement of Getzy's hips drive his dick into his hand. It's not wrong if Getzy said his name, right? Oh, God.

Getzy's mouth is still moving on the nape of his neck, the stubble scraping a little, when Bobby bites down on his lip and comes in his shorts. God, _Getzy --_ And Getzy sort of hums in his sleep and pulls Bobby even closer. Well, there goes his idea of sneaking out of bed to clean up.

Bobby feels too conflicted and gross to go back to sleep -- he's all torn between "orgasms feel good" and "jerking off while touching Getzy is bad and weird" and "what if I glued my balls to my underwear" -- but he must be _really_ tired, because somehow, he does it anyway.

***

Bobby's alarm goes off bright and early in the morning. He reaches over to smack it until it's quiet, and finds himself leaning over Getzy. Whoops.

"Good morning to you, too," Getzy says.

"Um, good morning," Bobby says. "I have to go shower." He rolls back off Getzy and races to the bathroom, only getting a little tangled up in the sheets and his clothes from yesterday on the way.

In the shower, he lets out a breath and lets the hot water beat down on him and his stuck-on shorts (he really doesn't feel like experimenting with manscaping today). Once they're soaked, they peel right off, and the evidence of what a creeper Bobby is goes right down the drain.

Or so he thinks, until he wanders back out of the bathroom in a towel, and Getzy stares at his mouth.

"What did you do?" Getzy asks, touching his own lower lip. "Did someone hit you?"

"What?" Bobby licks his lips. "Oh! No, I just, um. I bit it?"

"It's all..." Getzy shakes his head. "Never mind. Hey, let's get room service."

"I was supposed to get breakfast with the other Team USA guys," Bobby says.

"I know," Getzy says. He crosses his arms over his chest. "Let's get room service anyway."

Well, Bobby's been spending plenty of time with Team USA lately anyway. "Okay," he says. "I want pancakes."

"Good choice," Getzy says.

He orders while Bobby puts on clean shorts. After he hangs up, he pauses for a second, then says, "Nobody's allowed to just hit you, Bobby."

Bobby blinks. "What?"

"You'd tell me, right? And then I'd kick their asses." Getzy looks kind of... wild-eyed.

"Nobody hit me, bud," Bobby says. "I bit my lip, see?" He demonstrates.

"Good," Getzy says. He's still staring at Bobby's mouth, though.

Bobby stares back at him for a moment, then shakes himself. "Want to watch TV?" he asks.

"...Finnish TV?"

Oh, right. Neither of them speaks Finnish. "We could find a soap opera or something and make up what we think is happening," Bobby suggests. "My mom and I do that with telenovelas sometimes."

Getzy laughs. "Really?"

Bobby shrugs. "Got a better idea?"

"Hey, why not?" Getzy grabs the remote and starts flipping through the channels. He stops after a minute or two on the blondest soap opera Bobby has ever seen.

"It's like they're all secretly related to Pears," Bobby says.

"That's why that one girl looks so creeped out," Getzy says, leaning back against the headboard. "She just found out she's his sister."

"What, did she want to date him or something?" Bobby laughs.

"Pears is very hot in Finland," Getzy says with a straight face. Bobby almost thinks he's serious, until he cracks up laughing.

They keep going like that for a while, making up all kinds of relatives for Pears and doing silly voices for the commercials. Right when Bobby busts out his Swedish Chef impression for a yogurt ad, though, somebody knocks on the door.

"Room service!" calls a voice.

"I'll get it," Getzy says. He picks up his shirt from the floor as he goes, shrugs it on, then opens the door. "Hi! Thank you so much," he says to the lady pushing the cart.

Bobby absolutely refuses to feel jealous of the way he's smiling at her. It's just his... being-charming thing, not a _thing_. He wasn't saying a Finnish housekeeper's name last... Okay, that train of thought isn't going anywhere good.

Getzy snaps his fingers in Bobby's face. "You okay there, bud?"

"Fine," Bobby says, shaking his head a few times. "Just hungry."

They both sit on Bobby's bed, using the nightstand turned sideways as a table, and dig into their pancakes. A couple of times, Bobby thinks he can feel Getzy's eyes on him, but when he turns to look, Getzy is always focused on his breakfast.

When he's done, Bobby flops backwards and rests his hands on his stomach. "Oof," he says. "I'm stuffed."

Getzy looks down at him, and his mouth quirks into a smile. "You've got a little syrup," he says.

"Where?" Bobby rubs his cheek with the back of his wrist.

"No, lower," Getzy says, then, when Bobby tries rubbing his chin, "Higher," then, "Oh, fuck it."

Bobby starts to say, "Huh?", but he's stopped by Getzy's mouth on his, licking the syrup off his lower lip and then kissing him. Bobby's mom didn't raise any fool, so he kisses back enthusiastically, fisting one hand in the back of Getzy's shirt.

Then Getzy pulls back. Bobby strains to follow him, then falls back, staring up at Getzy. "This is okay, right?" Getzy says.

"Duh," Bobby says.

"God, Bobby, your _mouth_ ," Getzy says, leaning forward a little so he's hovering over Bobby.

"What about it?" Bobby wets his lips and watches Getzy's eyes follow his tongue.

Getzy bends down, arms bracketing Bobby's, and bites down on his lower lip, right where Bobby bit it the night before. Bobby arches up and gasps.

"I want to see it wrapped around my dick," Getzy says. "You do that, don't you, Bobby?"

"I -- sometimes," Bobby says. Twice, he's done it twice, but he's not sure if that would be too much or not enough for Getzy, and he doesn't want to do anything that might make Getzy let go of him.

Getzy kisses him again, hard. "Did you think about me?"

"What?" Bobby tries to reach up and touch Getzy's face, but Getzy pins his arm down by the wrist. It feels like a bolt of lightning going right to his dick.

"Did you think about me," Getzy repeats, "when you sucked other guys off?" He rubs the inside of Bobby's wrist with one finger.

"Yeah," Bobby says. "I did, Getzy, I pretended they were you, I wanted it to be you." He was never going to admit that to anyone, but he'll break his rules for Getzy.

"It should be me," Getzy says. "Not other guys." His eyes are practically drilling holes in Bobby.

"Getzy," Bobby says. "Let me. I want to suck your dick. Please, let me." Suddenly it's all he wants in the world.

Getzy groans. "You have no idea how bad I wanted to hear you say that."

"I'm saying it," Bobby says. He strains against Getzy's grip. "C'mon, let go."

He does, and Bobby sits up and wraps himself around Getzy, fitting their mouths together and getting a hand down Getzy's shorts. This is crazy, but there's no way Bobby's complaining. Getzy kisses exactly like he imagined he would: pushy and focused and really dirty, just like he's playing hockey. With... his tongue? Okay, that idea got away from him a little. He's going to concentrate on the making out now.

"Were you serious about blowing me?" Getzy asks after a while, pulling away from Bobby's neck.

"Of course," Bobby says. He climbs off Getzy's lap and gets down on his knees on the scratchy hotel carpet.

"Jesus," Getzy says. "You look like porn." His eyes are wide and dark, and he looks like he wants to eat Bobby up. ...Sexily.

"That's sort of the point," Bobby says. He eases Getzy's dick out of his shorts, taking a moment to enjoy the view from up close, then relaxes and sucks it as deep into his mouth as he can.

"Oh my god," Getzy breathes. 

Bobby hums happily in the back of his throat, and Getzy clutches at his hair. He pulls off, replacing his mouth with his hand, and says, "You can fuck my mouth if you want."

Getzy grips his hair tighter. "You're shitting me."

"I can take it," Bobby says. "I like it." He likes the reaction saying that gets him almost as much, if he's honest.

"Who are you, Deep Throat?" But Getzy nudges the head of his dick against the corner of Bobby's mouth, so he turns his head to sort of nuzzle it a little.

"C'mon, Getzy," he says, letting the smooth head slide over his bruised lip, leaving a smear of precome. "I know you want to. Fuck my mouth and come on my face."

"Jesus," Getzy says, and he _finally_ does it, drives his dick all the way back into Bobby's throat. Bobby closes his eyes and goes to town. He really does like sucking dick, or at least he did the times he tried -- and now it's Getzy for real, Getzy tugging his hair and making little grunting noises, Getzy's balls he's playing with, Getzy's heavy dick on his tongue and stretching his lips.

It feels like it's barely been any time at all when Getzy says, "Keep your eyes shut," and pulls out. Bobby tilts his face up, waiting, and Getzy stripes his face with come.

"God, you're --" Getzy swipes at Bobby's right eye with the pad of his thumb. "You can open your eyes now."

Bobby does, and Getzy is kind of staring at him. "What? Was that good?" he asks hopefully.

Getzy laughs. "Yeah, Bobby," he says. "That was -- really good." He sort of pets Bobby's face. "Can I do you?"

"Yes," Bobby says. Then he glances down at Getzy's softening dick. "Um. Later, you mean?"

"I meant can I blow you," Getzy says. He rubs the back of his neck. "But, uh. That too, if you want."

"Oh." Bobby blushes. "Yeah, if you, uh, if you want to."

"I said I wanted to, didn't I?" Getzy shoves him in the chest. "Come on, get up here."

Bobby scrambles up onto the bed as fast as he can. "How do you want me?" he asks.

Getzy smirks at him. "On your back," he says, and yanks Bobby's shorts down.

"Oh, jeez," Bobby says, and then Getzy's mouth is on his dick. "Have you ever -- oh God."

Getzy pulls off. "No, but I'm a fast learner."

"Oh God," Bobby says again. It's true, though. Getzy's really good at picking up on Bobby's signals and things, so it gets better and better. Pretty soon, Bobby's shaking and grabbing Getzy's face, saying, "Pull off, I'm going to come."

He does, and jerks Bobby through it with hard strokes. "Yeah, Bobby, do it," he says in a low voice, and Bobby squeezes his eyes shut and comes in Getzy's hand.

When the roaring in his ears fades a little, Bobby tries to sit up against the headboard, then flops back down. "That was... wow," he says.

Getzy grins and wipes his hand on the sheets. "I hear it gets better with practice."

"Yeah," Bobby says, kind of dizzily.

"We should practice a lot," Getzy says, stretching out next to Bobby and wrapping an arm around his chest. "Just you and me."

Bobby kisses Getzy's elbow. "Good idea," he says. Maybe losing early isn't the worst thing that could have happened.


End file.
